


I have never been the type to go to church

by bloggingbun



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Sam Winchester, Destiel will be mentioned as an established relationship, Fluff, Gabriel (Supernatural) is Loki, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this in two hours it's a bit messy, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Protective Gabriel, Religious Sam Winchester, Sort Of, Tags will be updated as I go along, hint it's john being a fucking awful parent, just sweet comfortyness, mentions of sam/ruby but only once, sam has ptsd, tw child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29197323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloggingbun/pseuds/bloggingbun
Summary: 'I have never been the type to go to church/and I have never prayed for anyone but her'- Sleepyhead, the scary jokesA little something about how maybe prayer is less about God and more about talking to the people we love.Sabriel fluff, angst, north mythology stuff, shenanigans, etc!Please enjoy it!
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

Sam prays.

He always has, but never so much as he does now. It started way back when he was younger, little, round eyed. Back when he needed a friend- no, no, not a friend. An adult. Somebody who could actually take care of him when all he had was Dean and someone who wasn’t a father.

Sam guesses the need to lean on someone never left him.

It was just light-hearted when he was a kid. He never knew how to do it right (and still doesn’t.) “Dear God,” he’d say, or “Hey, God.” It was informal. He wasn’t afraid of what might be listening.

“Hey God, today Dean let me go to the arcade with him.” “Today, dad took us to a Christmas market.” “Dear God, tomorrow I would like to have pizza rolls for dinner.” Mostly Sam would express these sentiments in his head, as he sat in the backseat of the impala, his eyes scrunched tight and his two hands making a little ball, trying to look pious the way he’d seen people do it in church. Of course, the only time they ever went to church was to meet with one of John’s friends, another hunter, but that was fine with Sam. Churches were cold, prayer there was colder. He didn’t know how God would be able to hear him in such a big, wide open space, and he’d heard the way people’s voices echoed inside churches and wondered if prayers inside churches did that too. Sam decided he didn’t like the thought of his private conversations with God to be shared with everyone and stuck stubbornly to quiet moments in his head while they were driving, or in his motel bed at night. Curled up on his side as Dean snored and John wasn’t there, Sam asked for nothing for himself.

When he missed his mom, Sam would ask God and the angels to take care of her. When Dean wouldn’t share his comics with him, Sam asked God to bring Dean a really cool comic book, because he loves them so much.

When John hit him, Sam would ask God to make his dad happy again. He didn’t know any better, it was too much for him to think that the one parent he had left would hate him so, so it was easier to blame himself. Even as a little kid, he blamed himself.

It’s not like anyone ever told him otherwise. 

As an adult, Sam retains the narrative naivety in prayer he had as a child. It’s a little more concise, and he has some more direction, but he’s pretty sure most of the time what he says just borders on blasphemy. “Dear God, if you could help me pass my finals that would be pretty cool.” “Hey God, you there? It would be real nice if you could smite my college or something. Send in a swarm of locusts. Do you still do locusts?” 

God, as he was when Sam was a child, is silent in his adult life.

When he’s twenty something, Sam loses his patience with God. Every day, every single day he’s aware of what’s wrong with himself. 

Demon blood. Dean won’t look him in the eye anymore, and when Ruby kisses him, Sam feels nothing. Outwardly, he feels nothing. He spends nights naked on the bathroom floor, holding himself because no one else will, heaving with sobs. He doesn’t want this, didn’t ask for this, tells God he wont ever ask for anything again if he makes this go away.

God is silent and Sam Winchester has never felt louder, like an ugly stain, like red on his shirt and around his lips, and he can’t stop himself, not anymore. He thinks it’s no wonder God never says anything to him- he is godless. Sam is filthy, damaged goods. Sam’s knees are black and blue from hitting the hard wood floor so often, he has no faith as he screams at the ceiling.

He wonders how it ever got so bad, he used to ask for nice things. 

He wants to die, sometimes. 

Sam guesses some people just don’t deserve it.

He wonders what he means by ‘it’, and then falls unconscious on the floor of the panic room. 

Gabriel stopped listening a long time ago when he first came to earth. A selfish part of him wondered if human beings ever thought, never about what might be going on upstairs? If they ever thought ‘Oh hey, actually I won’t ask to win the lottery today, I bet God is really busy!’ or, ‘You know what? Those angels have been working real hard, lets cut them some slack today!’

And then Gabriel takes it back, because how could they know? Half of them have no idea of the reality of things. Gabriel is supposed to be a big brother, a watcher, but he’s overwhelmed. Sometimes it feels like there are eyes all around him, he’s being scrutinised, the light from the spotlight is harsh and burning, he’s a comedy act on a stage. He’s a joke. The archangel Gabriel who had to run from his family, who had to hide. Gabriel thinks it’s the most human he’s ever felt, and he hates the vulnerability. Gabriel distracts himself.

Just desserts, karma, you name it. He isn’t a bad guy for hurting bad people. They’re just flesh and bone that decided to use their autonomy to be dicks- why should he care? Gabriel stops listening to anyone but himself. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help, he just can’t bring himself to anymore. When everyone is happy, when everyone’s problems are solved, who would be there to help him?

Because at the end of the day, it was just Gabriel, wasn’t it? The trickster, the one you came to, the one who made everyone laugh. Gabriel the protector, Gabriel the gospel, Gabriel whose feelings didn’t matter because he made you smile, and God forbid he be taken seriously himself.

Gabriel uses TV to distract himself. He enjoys the company of other Gods; he puts on his persona as Loki and has a good time. He has a good time.

Gabriel meets Sam Winchester, and realises he was wrong before. Falling in love with Sam was the most human he’s ever felt. 

Sam prays, and Gabriel listens.

Before they stopped the apocalypse, Sam had restless nights. He dreamt of Lucifer, clawing at the walls of his mind.  
“You know it’s gonna happen, Sammy” Lucifer was grinning over Sam’s shoulder, wearing an obnoxiously bright red devil costume. Sam guesses this is an attempt at humour, but it kind of makes him want to puke. Sam flips Lucifer off, tries to say something poignant about how he’ll never say yes, and then he’s being dream-tortured again. Sam woke up in a cold sweat. How many nights in a row was this now? He couldn’t count, he needed some water. As he sits leaning over the side of his bed, Sam sees a text light up his phone.

‘Another one?’

Gabriel has become pretty fine tuned to Sam’s emotions, even from across the world where he is now. Europe, Sam thinks? Maybe Munich? He picks up his phone to text back. Sam wasn’t sure when Gabriel had started taking such a special interest in him- it felt weird, only because he wasn’t used to it. He didn’t know how to handle it sometimes. Sam always felt like his cheeks hurt a lot more from smiling when Gabriel was around. Sam realises with a pang of sadness that he really isn’t used to smiling so much.

‘Yeah. Sorry. Is Munich(?) fun?’

‘Munich(?) is pretty pretty, and what’s with the apology?’

Sam has to pause before he writes back again. He didn’t even think about why he was apologising, only felt that he should. The question threw him off.

‘I just don’t want to disturb your holiday with my bad energy, ha ha. I know it must be pretty weird for you.’

This time, Gabriel, who texts back startlingly fast, takes a moment to reply.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. How could you ever disturb me, handsome? And it’s sweet that you think I’m here on holiday. To quote you, ‘ha ha.’ ’

Sam doesn’t know how to respond to being called handsome, and especially not by Gabriel. Its easy to forget this is an archangel of the Lord talking to him, and God’s most beloved gospel just called him handsome. Sam sometimes feels like he’s living in a fever dream, though admits just because he doesn’t know how to respond to being called handsome, doesn’t mean he minded it. He felt pretty pleased, actually.

‘What are you doing, then?’ Sam makes a point to ignore Gabriel quoting him.

‘Looking for a weapon to use against Lucifer. Same old. I hve some friends here helping me.’

A beat, and then Gabriel texts again.

‘You ok?’

Sam doesn’t know how to say no without being a burden. 

‘Pretty fine, actually. I’m learning to cope a lot better.’

‘Liar. What kind of chocolate do you like?’

Sam feels something in his throat tighten at both the accusation and the random question. Was this a game of some kind? He was tired, he wanted sleep.

‘…Not lying, and dark, I guess. Or milk, anything but white chocolate.’

‘OK. And it’s not weird for me.’

‘What?’

‘Hearing your feelings. You know I could turn it off any time I wanted, right?’

Sam doesn’t know how to react to that. Gabriel’s…listening out for him on purpose? Not by accident? He’s going out of his way to do it? Sam feels that lump in his throat again as he types,

‘No, I didn’t know that. You don’t have to have it on. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you have to look out for me or whatever.’ 

‘Like you could ever make me do anything, lol. Don’t worry yr pretty head about it. I want to listen to you, so I do. End of.’

Sam tries to play off how shaken up he is by that simple confession. It takes him a moment to type 

‘Thank you. Sorry, that’s maybe the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.’

‘Oh Samsquatch, we have got to help you meet some better people. I think going back to bed comes first though. And please stop saying sorry’

Sam begins to type out ‘sorry’, and then deletes it with a sheepish smile.

‘Goodnight Gabriel. Thank you.’ He feels brave enough to add a little yellow heart at the end of the message- it’s the closest he can find to gold. Gabriel feels gold to him.

‘Sweeeeeeeeet dreams, Sammy’

Sam forgets all about his water as his head hits the pillow, and a big, warm blanket of nothingness falls over him. Not dreaming at all is better than the dreams he has of Lucifer. When Sam wakes at a decent time again, he can barely remember the contents of his texts with Gabriel last night, until he moves his hand and nearly squashes something. Picking it up to inspect it, it’s a wooden carving, obviously handmade, of a huge wolf. Despite being inanimate, there’s something playful in the wolf’s eyes, and Sam takes an immediate liking to it. There’s a note attached to a string around the wolf’s leg, in a messy scrawl that Sam has never read before, and yet he knows instantly who it belongs to.  
‘Eats bad dreams!’ was all it said, but it made Sam grin from ear to ear. He examined the wolf once over, feeling something in his heart pang at the thought of Gabriel painstakingly making it from scratch for him. There were little imperfections here and there, and Sam ran his thumb over them, learning them by heart before he placed the wolf on his bedside table. Beside the wolf was a little box. It said something in German on it that Sam couldn’t read, but when he opened it, he felt an unbelievable tenderness wash over him. Dark chocolate. Way too much for one person, but chocolate all the same.

Sam thinks maybe prayer is less about talking to God, and more about talking to the people you love.

Sam prays, and Gabriel listens.


	2. My internal compass is all askew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I wrote this instead of doing coursework, so please enjoy it.  
> The events of the first chapter from Gabriel's perspective. They will interact properly soon, I promise!  
> I wanted to explore how Gabriel might have a lot of complex feelings about love and his self identity, he's pretty troubled in his own right but these boys are going to get together soon and do some healing! Promise!  
> Thank you for reading, please leave kudos if possible and any feedback is appreciated!  
> Much love <3

Gabriel liked Munich. 

Or, more accurately, Gabriel liked cities. Chicago, London, New Orleans- Gabriel found that in all his many, many centuries of life, he never seemed to tire of the bustle and hubbub and vibrancy found there. Unfortunately, however, this time there was less chances for him to just kick back and enjoy a Bratwurst.

There was a blue sky over the Olympiapark as Gabriel felt blades of grass kiss his hands. He was never one of those angels to treat his father’s creations like they were the end-all-be-all of beauty, but there was something about the sun and the gentle wind that made him grateful. Gabriel didn’t think it often, but he was pretty glad he existed. He had a zest for life, a vibrancy. Gabriel spoke gold and wrote white, he laughed like nothing could ever hurt him. 

Like nothing could ever hurt him, but it could. The archangel’s expression darkened, like a car light that had just flickered out. Things could hurt him. The very reason he was here was because something could hurt him, and Gabriel didn’t take well to that notion. 

As he watched the people, Gabriel people spotted. He’d learned that from Sam- something the Winchester had picked up on long and boring waits in Motel rooms. He’d look at strangers walking by, and in his mind, he would get to know him. Gabriel was never as good at it as Sam was, but tried it occasionally on his own anyway.  
‘That old man…’ thought Gabriel, peering at an innocent bespectacled gentleman. ‘Is secretly a part of a motorbike gang.’ The thought made Gabriel smile again, and he continued. Two teenage girls walking past were frogs in disguise, the man playing his guitar badly was a master tricycle rider, and the archangel in the grass playing people  
spotting missed Sam Winchester.

Sam Winchester. Oh, Gabriel was in love with him. He knew that. But it was like holding something very fragile and very slippery in his hands- Sam was going through so much, heaven knows he had already gone through plenty. The last thing Gabriel wanted was to scare him, or worse to push him away. Sam Winchester was the most beautiful soul Gabriel had ever met, and it was the worst thing in the entire world that he had no idea that was even true. Sam would never say it out loud, but Gabriel heard him- Gabriel saw him, saw how he felt unclean, damaged, loud. It made the archangel want to scream. If they didn’t stop Lucifer, Sam would have to be with him forever, just a puppet, all his self-doubts and lifetimes worth of fears would be confirmed. And nobody could ever be happy like that, especially not with Lucifer, and Gabriel hated the thought of Sam unhappy, ad he hated the thought of Sam with Lucifer, and-

Gabriel got abruptly to his feet. Sitting there and stewing was doing nobody any good- he needed to work now more than ever. Gabriel loved Munich; Gabriel loved cities. He loved the air, and the individual grass blades, and the way summer smelled. He loved Sam. Gabriel thought he’d been in love before, but it was less love than it was acting. He played pretend, his lines came first, hoping genuine feelings would come later. They never did.

So truthfully, Gabriel wasn’t exactly sure what it was he was experiencing with Sam. He’d never really been in love, but this time was…well, different didn’t really cover it. Being with Sam Winchester felt like the first time he saw a fish walk out of the water, knowing him was like standing by a star as it exploded, Sam Winchester was the first time electricity was invented, Sam was the first phone call ever made, Sam quieted the mornings, and the nights he eased, Sam’s presence was petrichor dew, the furthest thing from unclean he could think of. Sam reminded Gabriel why storms were named after people. To Gabriel, Sam was everything. The reality of everything. And the only word, the single name for this that sprung to the archangel’s’ mind was love. 

And if the world ended, Sam would be gone. Gabriel would be gone.

As he walked, Gabriel thought how lucky he must be, to have someone that would make saying goodbye so incredibly sad. 

Several hours later, and the weapon his contact in Munich had promised him had been a bust. Gabriel rolled with it, he wasn’t expecting much to come of it anyway, and he guessed it was a pro that at least it had been checked off his to-do list. Returning his penthouse apartment (of which he had several, all located in different places across the world, though he favoured best the one he had in New Orleans,) Gabriel kicked off his shoes. He liked that, he liked that he could do that. Kicking his shoes off. It was such a human thing for an archangel to do. Then again, Gabriel wasn’t exactly sure what he truly was anymore. The Gospel, the Norse God, the trickster. He went by so many different names, he had so many different disguises. There was no end to the amount of masks he could wear, no ceasing of the fronts he put on. Gabriel told himself he could live like this, but it was starting to feel wrong. It was less living, and more surviving.

He missed being a brother, he missed being in a family. Gabriel loved his siblings so much, and they loved him the same. At least, they used to. He’d seen so many of them grow from fledglings, Samhuiel, Balthazar, Laila, Castiel. Gabriel let out a long sigh at the thought of Castiel. His little brother was in so much more trouble than he realised and would never let down his pride enough to come to Gabriel for help. At least, Gabriel thought with both relief and a pang of annoyance, at least Castiel had Dean. Whatever those two had going on between them it seemed to be pretty strong.

With just a thought the TV turned on, blaring out some commercial as Gabriel sank back onto the couch, a relaxed smile spreading across his face at the familiar surroundings and the welcome noise of the TV. He was just deciding what kind of snack to summon when he felt a chill go down his spine. The sounds of TV slowed and became muted, and for a moment Gabriel’s chest felt tight as his whole body twitched, his shoulder jerking up to his head. Sound returned as normal, his chest loosened, but immediately Gabriel was worried. Since he’d opened himself up to Sam’s thoughts and feelings, every time something was particularly wrong with his Winchester, he’d experience these twitches. Sometimes they were just small, and he’d text Sam a funny message or a nice photo just as a pick me up, but when they were bigger like this?

Gabriel picked up the phone to text.

‘Another one?’

It wasn’t like he could exactly invite himself over, but God did Gabriel wish he could. It was torture, knowing that Sam was out there on his own and distressed, but he wouldn’t force himself into his space. Gabriel was Lucifer’s brother after all. Sometimes he feared there might be similarities, but Sam’s grateful texts back instantly relieved Gabriel of those notions, if Gabriel could help calm him down, then surely he was far better than Lucifer ever could be, right? And Sam was calming down now, their texting back and forth making the energy from him change. To Gabriel, Sam’s fear felt like drowning, and his calm felt like the sound of the ocean. Right now Gabriel was experiencing something like rainfall, and he could settle for that. Sam was okay again. Gabriel was too.

After Sam went back to sleep, Gabriel put his phone down and looked at his hands. He felt itchy, fidgety. He wanted to do something, but most of all he wanted to do something for Sam. He could tell the hunter hadn’t had a decent night of sleep in months, and who could blame him? Lucifer clawed at the walls of his mind, promising him terrible things, hurting him. Cooing to Sam as he made him a victim of his own sleep. It made Gabriel’s blood boil.

There wasn’t much he could do, but there was something. Summoning up a carving knife and a block of wood, the archangel got to work. The final product was far from perfect, Gabriel was going for a Fenris wolf type of deal, and this was more of a Fenris puppy. Still, it wasn’t about his wood carving skills. Gabriel pressed his lips to the top of the wolf’s head, imbuing it with some of his power. This would keep Lucifer from being able to enter Sam’s dreams, at least for a time anyway, and that was all that mattered. Just a little more time until Gabriel could figure out a long term solution to this, to all of this.

Gabriel ran his hands through his chestnut coloured hair. He never asked for things to be so difficult. 

Sam was fast asleep by the time Gabriel decided to teleport over to his motel room to deliver his carving and the promised chocolates. The hunter was lying on his side, one leg sticking out from the blankets, his arms bunched up around a pillow. His brown hair was all messed up, and Gabriel felt a little intrusive for seeing it like this without permission- he knew how much time and care Sam put into his presentation. And, to top it off, he was drooling a little bit. Gabriel stifled a laugh with the back of his hand. He wasn’t laughing at Sam, God no. The hunter was just so…human. So totally pure as he dreamt and breathed and Gabriel wondered what it must be like for Sam, to get exhausted when he didn’t sleep, to get cranky when he didn’t eat. He was a pretty big human, especially compared to Gabriel, and yet…small. In his true form, Gabriel towered, thousands of miles upon miles high. He could easily shelter Sam like that, he could take him away from all this. They could find a star to go to together and leave all of humanity to their fate. 

Except, Sam wouldn’t want that. Because, despite how he might not believe it, and against all odds considering the fucked up childhood he’d had, Sam Winchester was a good person. And that was all it came down to.

Gabriel placed the wolf and the chocolates down in the bed next to Sam and paused to look at his sleeping face one more time. It didn’t matter, he decided, if Sam could ever love him back or not. Gabriel would be there for him regardless. He would always listen, because he wanted to.

And it was as simple, and as complicated as that.

**Author's Note:**

> A crumb of feedback would be appreciated. Much love!


End file.
